Ash Tree Lane
by maryaun
Summary: At the end of what had been a rough week for both of them, Gail and Holly once again find themselves thrown together, this time bonding over a particularly emotional case. This is my contribution to the Golly MS MR fic compilation thingy on Tumblr. Track 3.


**Part I**

Saturday was Holly's only day off work. Well, technically Sunday was too but it didn't really count seeing as, out of habit she had usually found herself down in the lab, taming the mountains of paper work that had accumulated, making sure she had double-checked everything in preparation for the week ahead. Really, it was just all the tedious shit she couldn't be bothered doing each night before going home and crawling into bed, alone, with only her thoughts to keep her company.

This week, however, Holly had planned on sucking every single minute out of her weekend, opting to make generous inroads repainting the inside of her two story townhouse; a formidable task she had been putting off ever since having moved in about a year ago.

This was Holly's attempt at trying something new, though not exactly what her friends had in mind when they said she needed to "concentrate more on herself and less on dead people." They had a valid point she guessed, but at least this was a start. It was better than nothing at all.

So today Holly planned on starting project Remodel My Entire Life by painting her bedroom walls. After quickly tying her hair up, donning a red plaid shirt and a pair of worn navy blue overalls, she walked out of her house looking like she had just stepped out of Lesbian Cliché Weekly, early enough to arrive at the hardware store just as it was opening.

Despite the less than ideal temperatures outside, Holly had decided to walk in hopes of filling up her lungs with the fresh air that had so easily escaped her during sleep last night. Her dreams had left breathless and shaken. Thankfully, the hardware store was just around the corner from her house, and even better, it wasn't too far from her favourite café where she regularly curbed her addiction for buttery French pastries and the occasional caffeinated hot beverage.

An hour or so later she had finally made her choice but only after having scratched her scalp raw over the many colour swatches out on display. Who knew that there were so many different shades of red?

Content with her decision and loaded down with her purchases, she strolled out through the sliding doors and back into the crisp morning air, her eyes falling closed as she revelled in what it felt like to be alive, the sun warming her face as she took a moment to reflect. It was one of those kinds of days.

She carried a bag of rollers, a half dozen paint brushes of varying sizes and a large can of paint, the weight of which currently threatened to pull her shoulder right out of its socket, but despite the increasing pain, she soldiered on, venturing down the narrowing street along the concrete path towards her next scheduled stop, because unlike choosing paint colours, Holly was never indecisive in her decision to inhale a cup of coffee each morning to kick start her day, and this morning, she was in desperate need of a strong one. The larger the better she had thought as it had been an excruciatingly long and draining week, not to mention she had just had one of the most awful night's sleep she had experienced in quite some time. Frankly, Holly was exhausted, not just physically but emotionally worn out too.

Following the Robbie Robbins case earlier in the week, which was a relatively straightforward one despite the snarky police officer assigned to her (Peck seemed intent on taunting her every chance she got; not that she didn't thoroughly enjoy this because she definitely did, and the fact that this woman was probably the most drop dead gorgeous human being she had ever laid eyes on helped. Actually, it helped a lot). She was asked to cover for one of her colleagues for the remainder of the week, which meant she had double the amount of autopsies to get through and very little time to do them in but even then she rose to the occasion.

By mid-morning the previous day, after what felt like her hundredth dead body that week, the phone had rung informing her that there had been incident of carbon monoxide poisoning out in one of the lower-income neighbourhoods which had resulted in two fatalities and she was about to be spending the rest of her Friday with two very small bodies. Sisters, one of which had turned the unripe age of four only the day before.

A single mother had been trying to provide her children with the simple comfort of heat during one of the coldest months of the year and a poorly serviced gas heater had most likely been the culprit. This silent killer had mercilessly struck again. Two young lives ripped from this world during their sleep, while a mother's world is ripped agonisingly apart at the seams, now ready to swallow her whole, never to be the same again.

Unlike Holly's last night, this hadn't just been some dark twisted dream for that mother; it had been a straight up nightmare with no foreseeable end in sight.

Unfortunately, this was an all too familiar scenario for Holly, particularly during this time of year. For the most part, she could deal with it, compartmentalise it all when trying to reason with the fragility of a human life; she had become quite good at it in fact, but being children, and being so young, these cases always seemed to hit her just that little bit harder. It didn't happen every time but every so often her subconscious decided to release a swell of visions that would relentlessly haunt her in her dreams. It didn't matter how many times she'd wake up during the night, her heart racing and her tense body drenched from head to toe in a cold sweat, she would be drawn back in again as soon as her eyelids fell closed; it got to the point where she would rather stare at the ceiling than face the haunting blanks stares of the little girls that never got to wake up.

It was days like these that she had wished there was a warm, loving body waiting for her at home; someone to make her forget, relieve her of the subsequent pressure buried deep within her chest; of the heavy burden she carried with her knowing the truth about how all these lives would have suffered in their final moments. She needed someone to lie next to, hold onto, or more importantly, to hold onto her when she eventually succumbed to the darkness. It was days like these that made her hate the job she normally loved and couldn't bear to live without. Give her an old bag of bones to fuss over any day of the week if it meant having her sleep more soundly at night. But little did Holly know she would soon be getting her wish, well, to an extent.

Five minutes and four very white freezing cold fingers later, when she arrived at the cafe, Holly was berating herself at her decision to walk, the blood having now significantly drained from her right hand from the weight of the paint can.

Stopping in front of the main entrance, she began to rearrange her recent purchases to her other arm so she could properly open the door, however, mid transfer, she heard the doorbell jingle above her head.

"Here, let me," a familiar voice said, flicking her head up so she could match the voice with a face.

"Officer Epstein," she acknowledged the somewhat nervous man-boy with a polite smile while he held the door open for her, and then, as if on queue, he fumbled his coffee, just barely catching it but not without some coffee escaping the cup. The spillage missed his civilian clothes, however, the same could not be said for Holly, as a small amount of steaming hot liquid had splashed across the tops of her boots.

"Oh crap, I'm sorry," his face flushed with embarrassment as he sheepishly looked from the ground up to Holly who beamed widely at his clumsiness. And they trust this guy to carry a gun? She thought.

"Don't worry about it, Officer. Leather is widely known for being resilient." Epstein smiled cautiously and opened the door even wider for her.

After she gathered her things, switching the paint can from one hand to the other as to avoid nerve damage, Holly stepped through the door after Epstein had stepped outside. Turning back to him she smiled in gratitude. "Take it easy, Officer."

"Doctor," he nodded cordially before walking off in the opposite direction carrying what was left of his coffee.

Holly made her way across the crowded cafe, awkwardly dodging her way around all the people, trying not to poke them in the ass with the end of a wayward paintbrush. Eventually she came to a standstill at the back of a long line of shaky patrons, all who seemed to have the same idea as she did, however, the line was moving painfully slow. Everybody seemed to be dragging their feet, trying desperately to keep their eyes open as they took very small steps towards their intended target.

It wasn't too long before she and the rest of the walking dead were being startled awake, most of their attention being drawn from the coffee machine in front of them pumping out their much needed morning fix, to the loud voice suddenly shrieking out on the sidewalk, a sound which no doubt everyone in a four block radius could hear, it was that loud!

Holly ignored it at first; too busy running through the day's schedule in her head whilst trying not to concentrate too hard on the dull pain that had already began shooting though her opposite arm.

"NEXT!"

Holly felt a nudge to her shoulder that propelled her gently forward towards the counter. "Good morning, could I get a tall, skinny, caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso and two plain croissants please?" she asked, her voice barely registering over a second round of obnoxious yelling, the sound of which spilled in from outside.

Half a second later the windows were shuddering as the front door swung open, ending in a resounding crash as it hit the wall beside it casting a silence over the crowded room.

Holly couldn't really see what was happening through all the commotion but she could hear someone cursing under their breath as they made their way hurriedly through the quickly parting crowd.

As soon as the crowd dispersed fully, Holly found herself staring at the platinum blonde officer of whom she had just spent seven hours with earlier in the week, stride quickly across the congested room.

Because of the way Officer Peck was frantically pulling at from what Holly could tell, used to be a black and white striped sweater out from the front her chest, Holly could only assume she was on her way to the restrooms located on the far side of the cafe.

She quickly turned around to the barista standing on the opposite side of the counter who was still gawking (much like everyone else was) at Officer Peck who was swearing her way into the restroom. Children's ears be damned.

"Ice! Do you have ice?" Holly asked with urgency, gesturing with her head in the direction of the now reverberating sound of a door being slammed shut.

"Um, yeah. Just a sec," he toddled off.

Holly leaned over the counter. "A bag if you've got it," she called out as the barista walked away and out of her immediate sight.

Holly placed everything she had been carrying onto the floor in front of her and gently pushed them off to one side with her foot so they wouldn't get in the way of anyone behind her.

Half a minute later the barrister returned, handing Holly the bag of ice she had asked for. She turned and made a beeline directly towards the restroom and soon came to a grinding halt just outside the locked door.

As Holly listened to the muffled sounds of the water running, she lifted her hand up into the air, curling her fingers up to make a fist, hesitating for moment, before tapping her knuckles lightly in quick succession against the wooden door.

"Can't you read? It's occupied!" A voice angrily yelled from the other side, only cementing Holly's initial judgment from earlier in the week that Peck had quite the temper, although right now, who could have really blamed her? Holly would have too if she had just gotten scolding hot coffee thrown down the front of her sweater.

Holly leaned in closer to the door and rested her shoulder against the doorframe. "I have ice," she called out.

"What? Who has ice?"

"I do. Dr. Stewart?"

"Dr. Who?"

"Dr. Lunchbox?" Holly chuckled to herself after realising what she had said.

"Dr. Lunchbox?"

Holly wasn't going to continue correcting her name, hoping, for the sake of time and Peck's chest that she had figured out who it was. "Yes, how you doing in there?"

"Well Lunchbox," the voice meandered at first, which was then followed by a loud sigh, "have you ever singed your nips before?"

Holly almost chocked at Peck's words. Her breath caught in her throat as she coughed in amusement.

Gliding her hand up the side of the doorframe, she leaned in even closer while trying hard to keep her laughter in check. "Um, no, I can't say that I have."

"Well, I really don't recommend it," Gail laughed half-heartedly, drawing out the "really."

Holly pressed the side of her forehead into the door, biting her bottom lip, her first thought being that Peck probably wouldn't want any help but Holly was going to ask anyway. "Officer Peck, can I come in?"

There was a significant silence before Holly got her answer.

"Just as long as you promise not to laugh at my bra. It's laundry day." It was a statement Holly had definitely not been expecting.

Sighing, Holly looked down at her own attire. She rolled her eyes as she thought of all the possible inappropriate comments that would be imminently flung her way. If there was one thing she had learned about this woman during their short time together it was that there was no way around the teasing; it was to be expected and swift. Peck was not one to hold her tongue. "Ok, but only if you promise not to tease me for what I am wearing."

"Look, Lunchbox, I know myself well enough to tell you that I can't promise you anything of the sort." It's what Holly had expected, and frankly, Gail's honesty was a breath of fresh air. "Also, you should probably drop the formalities and call me Gail seeing as you are more than likely about to see my tits." And with that Holly heard the door unlock, the red occupied label rolled across to a green vacant one down beside the door handle.

After a few deep breaths, not knowing what to really expect, Holly pressed down on the handle with one hand and pushed the door open with her shoulder and took a few tentative steps into the small room before closing the door behind her locking it. She found herself having to immediately bite her tongue, stifling the laugh that had quickly bubbled up from her chest to her throat as she witnessed Gail's feeble attempt at getting cold water to run evenly across her chest. Never mind the amusing plaid bra Gail was wearing (which funnily enough matched her own shirt), because Gail's hands were lifting the bottom of her soaked bra-clad breasts upwards as she tried position them under the faucet; it was truly a memorable sight.

"You better not be laughing over there," Gail groaned without looking up, now alternating each breast back and forth under the cold tap.

Holly's eyes widened. Suddenly she felt the urge to defend herself. "I haven't even made a peep!"

"Well," Gail paused for a moment for what Holly could only assume was to come up with some kind of retort, "I can hear you breathing," she huffed. It made absolutely no sense to Holly and she could only breathe louder in amusement. This chick was insane, she thought.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Holly's inflection rose. "I'll just stop breathing, shall I? I wouldn't want to distract you from the task at hand or should I say, in your hands?" Gail lifted her head up and shot Holly a questioning look through the reflection in the mirror.

The corner of Holly's mouth slowly curled upwards into a subtle smirk.

Gail pouted, her eyebrows furrowing as the cutest of dimples appeared across her chin. "Oh, ha di ha," Gail scrunched up her nose.

Holly closed the remaining distance between them, tearing open the bag of ice and Gail let go of her breasts and stood up straight.

Holding the bag out to her, Gail thrust her hand down into it and pulled out a handful, however, Gail looked a little unclear about what she was supposed to do with it all.

Holly pointed her nose towards Gail's chest as she turned the cold tap off for her. "Go on, you may as well just stuff some ice down there. It's probably the easiest and quickest option for some relief right now."

Gail scoffed. "Fine, but you have to look away."

That was fine with her but she thought a little harmless teasing wouldn't hurt. "I am a doctor, Gail." Holly shrugged nonchalantly. "You don't have anything that I haven't seen before."

Gail looked at her skeptically, a devilish smirk then appearing on her face as she took a step back, "Oh, I am sure you have, Lunchbox," she teased knowingly, Holly then remembering the last thing she had told Gail that day, before they walked out of the lab together, "but I think you are enjoying this a little too much."

"Oh, don't you worry, I am," Holly grinned. Her cheeks rose high as if strings were pulling them up. "Just not in the way you are thinking." Gail's predicament was quite amusing after all.

Gail looked down at her chest contemplating her next move. And then she went for it. She stuffed her bra carefully with half a dozen ice cubes in each, barely registering the cold as it hit her alabaster skin. "Oh, god, I look like a lobster," she sighed and then relief struck her face.

Holly nodded, agreeing with the endearing statement. "Yup, pretty much," she stared at the glistening and blatantly red chest before her. Of course not in an overtly sexual way, merely a medical observation, at least that is what Holly told herself. She was just amazed at how close the colour of Gail's normally pale skin had quickly come to resemble the paint colour she had chosen for the feature wall of her bedroom.

Gail looked up at Holly, biting at the corner of her mouth, clearly in some discomfort. "Do you think they will be okay?"

Holly met Gail's worried eyes. "Your nipples?" Gail nodded in response. Holly knew Gail was going to be perfectly fine in a few days' time. She would probably experience some minor peeling, nothing too major, but right now she couldn't really help but want to tease Gail some more. What could she say? Gail just brought it out in her.

"If not, you could easily find a new job."

Gail seemed confused by Holly's words and contorted her face. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

"Well," Holly cast her gaze down to Gail's breasts once more, cocking her head to side, bemused. "You can now cut glass with those things," she pointed her nose towards them, the ice having already significantly melted away, leaving a clear outline of Gail nipples standing to attention as beads of water streamed down Gail's abdomen, only to disappear into the waistband of her jeans.

Gail looked dumbfounded, her mouth falling open in surprise. "What the- What on earth are you wearing, Lunchbox?" Gail deflected.

Holly's eyes slowly rolled back into her head before she closed them. She let out a long breath as she waited for the rest of the biting words to come spilling from Gail's mouth. She had known that the snark was coming. "And I thought that green puffy jacket was bad. Did you get dressed in the dark this morning? Or did you wake up with the sudden urge to milk some cows? Or is it pigs? What do you nerdy science-y type of people hide in your basement these days to conduct your experiments on?"

Yep. This chick was definitely insane, a trait Holly found herself being unequivocally drawn to.

Holly opened her eyes half expecting Gail to be smirking contently at her, but instead she had moved over to the dryer on the opposite wall, stained sweater in hand. It was from this new angle that Holly couldn't help but notice the giant bruise up Gail's side, starting from her hip, stretching up towards the bottom of her ribs.

"Jesus, Gail!" She took two hurried steps towards her, Holly's nurturing instincts taking over in that moment as she was drawn to reach for the injured area. "What happened here?" She asked as her fingers gently made contact with Gail's smooth black and blue skin. This bruise was fresh.

Gail turned outward slightly, looking down at Holly's fingers splayed over her side. She then glanced up to meet the concerned look in Holly's eyes. "Oh, that's nothing. Don't worry about it," Gail shrugged it off, turning back to the dryer, placing her sweater underneath the nozzle before she turned it on, a burst of heat gushing out causing her to jump skittishly in surprise.

Skeptical, Holly took a step sideways in towards the wall so she could get a better look at Gail's face, her hand naturally making it's way to Gail's shoulder in comfort, now determined to know what Gail was thinking.

"But-"

Gail quickly turned her head towards Holly, sporting a murderous glare, immediately stopping Holly in her conversational tracks. Holly pulled her hand away from Gail's shoulder and retreated backwards. Even though Gail wasn't saying anything, she could tell she was struggling with something internally. Holly had obviously struck a nerve, and by the look in Gail's eyes, it was not something they would be discussing any further.

Wondering what to say next, Holly backed up even further, resting her hands on the sink behind her, keeping at a safe distance. "You should really get some burn cream or Aloe Vera on that as soon as possible. Do you live close by?"

Gail dropped her head back and sighed and the fan of the dryer automatically stopped as the sensor lost contact with her sweater. She turned, gritting her teeth. It was clear to Holly that her pain was palpable, as she took the few steps back to the sink and swapped her sweater for the entire bag of ice, which she then placed against her chest.

"Not really. I was only over on this part of town because I was meeting my dick head roommate, who did this to me by the way," Gail glanced down at her chest shaking her head, "he wanted help buying some bullshit wedding present for our colleagues wedding next week."

"Wait, is Officer man-boy, I mean, Epstein your roommate?" Gail smiled curiously at her and then nodded. "He almost drenched me on the way in."

Gail rolled her eyes. "Fuckknuckle," she said under her breath. "Anyway, I told him to fuck off. He was my ride, so it's going to take me longer to get home now."

"Okay, well if you need instant relief I could take you to the hospit-"

"No!" Gail quickly interjected, Holly noticing that the permanent scowl on Gail's face seemed to be trying to hide something that resembled fear.

"Okay, no hospital." This time Gail visibly cringed at the word. "How about my place? It's just around the corner." Gail stared at her blankly. "Walking distance. I have first aid and whatnot. I am guessing with your ghostlike complexion you are no stranger to aloe," Holly said, which earned her a weak smile. "If you're lucky, I'll even give you a treat."

Taking her silence as a yes, Holly grabbed Gail's sweater off the bench, handing it to her in exchange for the bag of ice. Gail winced as she gingerly pulled the sweater up over her head and down to cover her red hot stinging skin. She looked into the mirror at the yellow stain on her sweater, shrugging when she caught Holly's smiling at her reflection.

"C'mon then," Holly tugged on Gail's arm, pulling her toward the door. "I'll let you nibble on my croissant."

Gail chuckled and the delightful sound made Holly's heart warm.

"Is that some kind of euphemism?" Gail followed Holly out of the bathroom and then paused, "Because if not I could really go for a croissant."

TBC.


End file.
